Dreams tainted in blood,
having become a shadow on an empty wall to stare at,
embracing the echo of a sparkle having died within a lost moment in time.
Just let it drown.
Hidden deep inside,
the part with all the warmth and the oh!-so beating heart,
that urges to wake up and fight for things so close to the soul leaking out into a world gone cold.
Let it drown.
Some things have to be silenced,
and disappear into the sea of gray that once had been full of a purple sparkle,
and break itself into
a thousand unheard frequencies.
For otherwise
this body will break and the skin will rip apart and tell
that nothing is ever left,
of all the tales that could have been,
of all the things that never were,
I need another witching dream.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 
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